


His Golden Eyed Legacy

by Madyamisam



Series: Secrets of Sun Collection [4]
Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I hate tags, Literary References & Allusions, Minor Character Death, Mystery Character(s), Time Travel, tags spoil everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 00:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madyamisam/pseuds/Madyamisam
Summary: Along the way to the journey west, the gang meet another doppelganger but there is something particularly unusual about this Wukong for he was neither a simple con artist nor even shikigami made from the forces of Gyumaoh.





	His Golden Eyed Legacy

Pain, he hadn’t felt pain in a very long time. It was mostly because he was usually too good, too fast and too smart for the enemy to land a hit on him, let alone wound him like this. A long protruding shaft from a broken lance impaled his midriff and to add insult to injury he heard himself whimper while lying like a broken doll a foot away from the cave. Damn, he felt tired but he had to hurry before his young master came back. Slowly but surely, he propped himself up and gripped at the broken lance. Taking a deep breath and focusing on drawing the energy from the ground beneath his feet, he pulled at the offending object. Straining to stay quiet he bit on his lower lip to stop himself screaming and with a massive wrench the shaft was ripped out of his body. Blood started pouring out of the wound along with a few bits of entrails pooling into a crimson puddle but the energy he had summoned, wisps of light leaking from the ground beneath, came together and concentrated on the open orifice. Twisting and turning, the blood had trickled to nothing and the wound was magically knitted shut by the earth’s life force. He sighed, feeling eager to have a very well deserved nap when the voice echoed in the cave.

“Wukong?” he heard the man call. Snapping his golden eyes open he stood up and headed for the pure white stallion standing nearby. It let out a whinny as he reached into a satchel hanging on its side to grab a neatly folded silky red robe and wrapped it around his own blood soaked body.

“Be quiet!” Wukong hissed just as the man who was calling him walked out. He turned, cloak completely concealing his wounds. “Welcome back, master. I trust your days of solitude came out fruitful?” he asked turning towards the monk that had come out of the cave ensuring that he did not show any signs that he had been injured. Sanzang paused with a look of confusion on his face as he surveyed what was clearly the aftermath of a battle before glaring at the brunet in front of him.

“What happened here, Wukong?” there was a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“Just got in a fight that involved a few bandits Master, but I dealt with them accordingly,” the monk gasped in horror and Wukong resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone.” He reassured. He was telling the truth, of course. The bandits that had sought to rob him were batted away quite easily, the monstrous undead beast that he had to fight afterwards, not so much.The monk still looked sceptical though. Sanzang’s strong belief to not allow the killing of another creature was a refreshing novelty to Wukong, especially in a world as vicious as this one, but it was also a source of endless frustration for him. How many times had the priest fallen for the same trap set by the same demons he spared? It was far too many to count. Wukong also scoffed at the superstitious demons too. Where they got the idea of attaining immortality by eating a priest, he would never know. Sanzang was just a human, whose flesh had no more nutritional value than any other kind of meat. There was never anything special about him at all except for his infuriating stubbornness and ability to attract trouble. Yet, in spite of this, the Sage cared about the naïve monk. He cared enough that he would follow Sanzang at his pace. Wukong even went out of his way to protect the idiotic bandits while fighting the undead creature to uphold those ridiculous values. It almost got him killed. Wukong sighed; he would humour them a little longer, if only until the journey’s end.

“That’s blood” the monk seethed, staring at the grisly sight where Wukong had bled out a rather ghastly puddle. 

“The result of a flesh wound, Master. It’s survivable unless of course, the one that sustained it was pathetic enough to die from a weak heart.” Wukong replied coolly while inwardly hoping that it wasn’t the case.His pride would just not allow for him to drop dead right at this moment because of his injuries, especially when he knew he had an important job to do and it was not for the young monk in front of him to know about. Sangzang flashed a reproachful glare at the brunet. Usually at this point, the monk would be onto him with another lecture on morality but he noticed something odd about the powerful being before him. Something was off from the usually confident Sun Wukong that he was used to seeing.

“Why are you wearing my robe?”

“Felt a bit cold so I went into the bag to grab the first thing to wrap myself up in.” His master looked sceptical of his excuse. It didn’t help that the dragon horse was tugging on the hem of the silk cloth. Wukong sighed. “My apologies Master, I shouldn’t take your things without your permission.” The brunet slowly peeled the elegant robe off and handed it over. Sanzang looked at the robe suspiciously then at Wukong. Nothing appeared to be out of place. After another glance at the robe, Sanzang frowned at his own paranoia before taking the robe and placing it back around Wukong’s shoulders.

“There’s no need to apologise over material possessions.You were cold, you needed it and there’s not much other use for a robe folded up in a bag” The monk wanted to also add his own apology for jumping into conclusions. His disciple had tried hard to curb his wrathful tendencies and had yet to kill another creature for a long time but Wukong had turned his back on him before he could say anything. 

“We should get going to meet with Bajie and Wujing.” Wukong said taking the horse by the reins, ignoring the worried look on Sanzang’s face and the fact the horse was being fickle in trying to show the monk the truth of Wukong’s condition.The sage glanced behind his shoulder, expectantly for the monk to mount so they could be on their way.

The trek and the meeting with the group had been uneventful yet tense at the same time and even though meeting up with his other two disciples had been a slight comfort, it did nothing to shake the sense of foreboding in Sanzang’s heart or the frustration of trying to figure out the scripture he now had in his possession. It was the end of the mission for them but the start of a long struggle for survival for the entire world and finding out the key of how the scripture worked could mean the difference between saving the very existence of every single living creature from the black nothingness that was increasingly growing in the distance and complete oblivion. He grimaced at the sight of dark clouds spiralling and twisting into a single spot in the distance but what worried him the most was not the end of the world. Wukong appeared to remain calm outwardly while both Wujing and Bajie were beside themselves with terror as he steadily translated the ancient text. Sanzang had largely succeeded in understanding the text safe for one final part in which the language was beyond even his expertise.

“Will it help save the world, Master?” Bajie asked anxiously, his piggy eyes were wide with fear.

“I understand most of it safe for this last part,” Sanzang replied frowning at his own inadequacy. He turned his attention to Wukong who was as usual perched up at the tree branch looking out in the distance which was what he usually did and that was what troubled Sanzang the most. Everyone was tense from the impending doom. Lung Ma, their white horse was particularly out of sorts, stubbornly nuzzling Wukong and keeping close to him while tapping his hooves on the ground in an agitated manner. Of all of them, Wukong looked the calmest he had ever been, which was a first for Sanzang. Since the day he met him, Wukong had come across as a vicious blood thirsty monster and he had to subdue him with the spell that was passed down to him by the great goddess herself. It wasn’t exactly something that he wanted to do but things had to be done and sometimes he lashed out in anger, other times he had been tricked. While he was remorseful, Wukong had never really asked for an apology. In some ways, Wukong upheld the Buddhist teachings more than he did and he wondered right now whether the sage was on the verge of approaching enlightenment.

“Elder brother seems to be quite tired Master,” Wujing commented brought the monk out of his musings and he found that Wukong indeed was now asleep, still wrapped up in the robe he had worn.

“Why is he wearing that anyway? Isn’t it yours, it’ll get dirty.” Bajie grumbled.

“A robe is only as valuable as the practicality it brings. Your elder brother is cold. Leave him be.” The monk admonished.

“Considering he was born from a rock at the top of a mountain, you’d think he was used to the cold” the pig demon muttered under his breath. Eventually, the topic was dropped as everyone had decided that they would worry more about it once they set off in early morning. Even the Lung Ma had stopped it’s fretting and merely lay down as close to Wukong as possible. Sanzang decided that he would meditate for a while and try to figure out the last passage on his own. It wasn’t long when he heard the rumbling snore of Bajie and there was a quiet in the air that he heard Wukong speak again for the first time since they had reunited with the group of travelling companions.

“I wasn’t born from a rock,” Wukong muttered. Sanzang looked up in surprise realising that the sage was definitely not asleep. As dark as it had been the smaller man’s unusual penetrating golden eyes stared down at him. As if he suspected that the monk had been whisked away by another demon and put a changeling in his place. They were fiery and glowed eerily with the intent of a predator.

“Is that so?” Sanzang asked looking away. Wukong knew that the young priest’s curiosity had been peaked since Wukong never really spoke about his past. Everything about him really had actually been a mystery, the stories were legends turned to myth; replaced by fantastical tales for little children to listen to at night before bed time. 

“I did have a mother and father, brothers too in fact” Wukong replied with a smile “and another name.” The young monk pursed his lips as the burning desire to know more about his eldest disciple. It was a strange dichotomy that he, a young man barely in his twenties revered to be wise and knowledgeable of the Buddhist faith and yet he had someone as old and ancient as the being in front of him who had a seemingly boundless amount of experience of the world. The monk had been informed about the circumstances of the man being imprisoned by the gods but he wasn’t sure what it was the crime was about. There were so many things that he didn’t know about the mysterious Sun Wukong yet there was only one question that he needed answered.

“Why are you telling me this?” Wukong snorted in amusement at the monk. He was perceptive but his naiveté prevented him from completely figuring out the golden eyed sage.

“Hmm… something about being the end of the world I suppose, gives one an urge to want to reflect on the past.”

“Whatever you’ve done in the past, it’s not a reflection of who you are right now. You’ve agreed on this sacred journey and-“

“And if my past could possibly assist you in figuring out that last passage in that scroll now?” Wukong interrupted. The smile turned into a grin as sharp canines glinted in the dying embers. Sanzang frowned.

“You know what this says?”

“Its contents are as old as I am and it has been a while since I visited that old cave.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“Why didn’t you ask?” Sanzang faltered under the piercing fiery gold gaze that seemed to see through every form of deceit and the mischievous smile that played on the sage’s lips. Sanzang took note of the two streaks of blond locks in the sage’s otherwise deep earthy brown hair. 

“I guess, my pride in trying to figure this out on my own blinded me from what’s around me.” Sanzang realised as Wukong playfully poked the monk in the forehead.

“Precisely…”

Visibly chastised by the sage’s roundabout way teaching methods. “So… will you tell me?”

“Even better, I will show you but it’ll be in the morning, master” Wukong replied enigmatically as he helped the monk roll up the scroll and place the robe that he had been wearing up until that point around his shoulders. “You need your rest.” Sanzang sighed as he sat down and closed his eyes and be lulled into sleep despite the impending doom that lay ahead. When he woke, the fire had gone out and instantly he knew, Wukong had disappeared and he took the scroll with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve read some stories where they bring the original novel counterparts of our beloved Sanzo party and I felt like doing something similar but with another twist, let's see if you as the reader can figure it out?


End file.
